PS 635 

Z9 
S5625 
1915 
Copy 1 



Ittlbttnnf 

AGRICULTURAL EXTENSION DIVISION 



BACK TO THE FARM 

A PLAY IN THREE ACTS 

BY 
MERLINE H. SHUMWAY 




GENERAL SERIES NO. 12. FEBRUARY 1914 



««■■■ 



■■■■i 



Revised and Reprinted, September 1915 



Entered at the Post-OfBce 

in Minneapolis as second-class matter 

Minneapolis, Minnesota 



IttUrtm at 
®Ij? Imuprfittg of iltntt0H0ta 

AGRICULTURAL EXTENSION DIVISION 



BACK TO THE FARM 

A PLAY IN THREE ACTS 
BY 

AlERLINE H.^SHUMWAY 




GENERAL SERIES NO. 12. FEBRUARY 1914 
Revised and Reprinted, September 1915 



Entered at the Post-Officc 

in Minneapolis as second-class matter 

Minneapolis, Minnesota 



(A 



Copyright 1914, 1915 
The University of Minnesota 



©CI,D 42321 



NOV (21915 





SCENE PLOT 






ACT I 






Landscape drop 




Picket 




fence 




\ Gate 




Wash-bench 


Wood wing- 






Wood wing- 










Tree with bench 






Grindstone 






ACT II 






Landscape drop 




Door 


Tapestries 


Table with 






frappe bowl 


Door 


Fireplace 




Settle 


Easy chair 


ACT III 
Landscape drop 




Door 


^oor Table 


Bookcase 


Window 
Chair 


Easy chair 




Desk 



ORIGINAL CAST OF CHARACTERS 

Charles Merill, a farmer of the old school Spencer Cleland 

Merton Merill, his son Arthur Munck 

Mrs. Merill, the farmer's thrifty wife Agnes Webster 

Rose Meade, the school ma'am Alice Hillman 

Gus Anderson, the hired man Merline Shumway 

Reuben Allen, a neighbor James Curran 

Mr. Ashley, lawyer and real estate agent Arthur K. Anderson 

Robert Powell, a senior in law Harlow Hanson 

Margerie Langdon, a promising society debutante Ethel Willis 

HuLDA, the maid Retta Bede 



ACT I 
The Merill farm. Mid-autumn, 1906. Morning. 



ACT n 

The University of Minnesota. Five years later. At the fraternity ball. 



ACT HI 

Merton's study at the Alerill farm. Two years later. Islerning. 



CHARACTERS AND COSTUMES 

Mrs. A'lerill is a short woman of about fifty, with silvery-gray hair. 
She walks with a quick, nervous gait, and her words are snapped out with 
a knowing air. In Act I she wears a kitchen apron over a plain, dark 
wrapper. In Act II she wears an old-fashioned black silk skirt ; short, 
tightly fitted jacket with full sleeves; a small bonnet tied under the chin, 
and mitts. In Act III she wears a black-and-white striped house dress 
and a small white apron. 

Mr. Merill is a tall, rather thin man, of the Yankee type, about fifty 
years old. His shoulders are stooped, and he walks with a shuffling gait. 
He speaks in a hard, dry, authoritative voice. He wears blue overalls, flan- 
nel shirt, and a gray felt hat. 

Mr. Allen is a typical Yankee. He talks with a Yankee drawl. He 
has a chin beard. He wears a straw hat, overalls, high boots, and a ragged 
flannel shirt. 

Rose Meade is a pretty, vivacious girl of about twenty, with somewhat 
more style than the ordinary country girl. She has a sweet voice, pretty 
manners, and much personal charm. In Act I she wears a simple pink 
linen dress, with white lace collar and cuffs, and a large straw hat trimmed 
with flowers and tied under the chin with ribbons. In Act II she wears a 
pretty evening dress of yellow silk with a bunch of red roses at her belt 
and a bright ornament in her hair. In Act III she is dressed in a traveling 
suit, over which she wears a motor coat and pink motor veil. 

Merton Merill is a rather awkward country boy of nineteen. He is 
very earnest and gives the impression of having thought rather more than 
either Allen or his father. In Act I he wears the ordinary clothes of 
a farm hand. In Act II he wears a dark blue business suit, with gray tie. 
In Act III he has a gray flannel shirt and gray trotisers. 

Mr. Ashley is a lawyer of about thirty, very much impressed with his 
own dignity, eager to give advice. He is determined to make a success in 
life. In Act I he is dressed in a hunting suit and carries a shotgun. In 
Act II he wears a conventional dress suit; in Act III a motor coat and 
cap. 

Gus Anderson is a large-boned, awkward man of thirty. He is of de- 
cided Scandinavian type, with a shock of yellow hair and has a broad Scan- 
dinavian accent. In Act I he wears a gray outside shirt, the sleeves of 
which are rolled up, showing a red undershirt. In Act HI he wears a 
white dairyman's suit and white cap. 

Hulda is a Swedish girl who has just come over. She is lazy and 
shiftless, but very good-natured. She has untidy yellow hair, blue eyes. 
and a large mouth which is open most of the time. She wears a red calico 
waist, flowered pink skirt, and a blue gingham apron tied on crooked. 



6 BACK rO THE FARM 

Robert is a jolly, not very serious college boy. His chief interest in 
college is its gayety. In Act II he wears a well-cut blue serge suit and a 
rather bright tie; in Act III, overalls and flannel shirt. 

Margerie Langdon is a college belle. She is clever, vivacious, and 
eager for a good time. She wears an elaborate evening dress, with feath- 
ers in her hair. 



BACK TO THE FARM 
ACT I 



Ashley: "Yovi haven't seen a covey around here, have you, Merton?" 

Scene, the Merrill farm in mid-autumn. An old-fashioned frame cot- 
tage to the right zvith low porch and tzvo steps leading up to it. Trellised 
over the porch are climbing roses. In front stands a low bench upon which 
is a pail partly filled with water, a wash basin, and a bar of soap. Wood 
zvings to the left. The landscape backing is a farm scene showing the 
fields, pastures, and grain stacks. A rustic fence is in the rear with a gate 
in the center. A tree down L. zvith a rustic bench beneath. 

At rise of curtain, a faint light is streaming through the trees at the 
left. As the act progresses the lights grow brighter gradually until the 
border and footlights are on full. 

Music — Home Sweet Home — low and gradually dying out. A cock 
rrozvs. A cozv moos. Noise zvithin of the shaking of a stove grate. 

(Enter Mr. Merill, L. He crosses to the door of the house and calls.) 

Merill. Gus ! (Pause. Cock again crows.) Oh, Gtis ! (Pause. Cow 
moos.) Gus ! (Indignantly.) 

Gus (from zvithin house; yawns sleepily). Ay loan standing oup. 



8 BACK TO THE FARM 

AIerill. Merton! (Louder.) Merton ! (Still louder.) Merton ! 
Merton (from within house). Ah, ha. 
Merill. Roll out. It's late. Ma! 

Mrs. Merill (from zvithin house). Yes, I'm up. (Cock croz>.'s.) 
Merill. Gus ! 

Gus (from within house). Ay ban com-min. 

Merill (with authority). Well, get down here! It's a quarter past 
five. Merton ! 

Merton (from zvithin house; uncomfortably). Yes. 
Merill. This is the last time I call you. (Coiv moos.) 

(E.vif Merill. L. 

(Noise from house as pail falls off a table.) 

Gus (angrily). Dog-gone das here, anaway. (Enter Gus from house.) 
Ay ain't waked oup yet. (Carrying two milk pails, he crosses to R. C, sets 
pails down, rubs eyes, yawns,, and stretches.) Ma goodness, but ay ban 
sleepy. (Places hand to forehead.) Ma, such a headache. (Emphatical- 
ly.) Ay bet you ay not go to town again. (Cow moos. Gus looks up.) 
Das is all right, boss, ay milk you right avay. (Picks up pails and crosses 
to L. C.) 

(Enter Mrs. Merill.) 

Mrs. Merill (from doorway). Hurry in with that milk, Gus. I need 
some for breakfast. 

Gus. Yaw, ay vil. (Yazvning and singing.) "Keep on da sunny side. 
Always on da sunny side, Keep on da sunny side of life." (Sings broken- 
ly.) 

(Exit Gus, L. 

Mrs. Merill. Merton ! (Pause.) Merton ! 

Merton (from zvithin house). Yes, I'm getting up. 

Mrs. Merill (angrily). Now you just hurry up out of there. Pa will 
be awful mad if he comes in and finds you abed. 

(Enter Allen from L. E. He looks right and left and calls out in a sing- 
song way.) 

Allen. Hello, everybody ! 

(Enter Mrs. Merill carrying a grape basket.) 

Mrs. Merill. Why, good morning, Mr. Allen. What are you doing 
over here so bright and early? 

Allen (slowly). Why, I promised Charles t' other day I'd come up 
and help him get that 'ere hay down in the slough. I reckoned I'd come 
up early, so's we could get a good start. 

Mrs. Merill (throzving up hands in despair). My goodness, has he 
gone to haj'ing again ? 

Allen. Wall, that's what he says to me. (Opens gate and comes 
down R. C.) 



BACK TO THE FARM 9 

Mrs. Merill (with disgust). Land sakes, that's just the way with 
him, he's always behind with the work. (Comes down to R. C.) I get 
so disgusted sometimes I think I can't stand it a minute longer. No matter 
what season of the year it is, he's behind. Haying when he should be cut- 
ting; cutting when he ought to be plowing; and here he's gone to haying 
again. I just wish nature would slip a cog sometime, so as to give him 
a chance to catch up. 

y^LLEN (goes over to tree, picks up a stick of wood, and proceeds 
to whittle it). Well, I reckon as how he wished 'twould, cause he's got 
to have some hay for the cattle this winter. 

Mrs. Merill (looks up with surprise). Well, if them chickens haven't 
gone and got into the garden again. They seem to stay up all night, so 
as to get into the garden early in the morning. (Picks up apron.) Shoo 
chick ! Shoo ! Shoo ! Shoo ! 

(Exit Mrs. Merill, L. 

Allen (stands up against tree, takes plug of tobacco from his pocket 
and bites off a chew, looking after her). Gosh all fishhooks, she sure's 
a busy old soul. If my wife was like that I reckon as how I'd have to 
get out and mow the clover some myself. (Places one foot on bench.) 
(Enter Miss Rose, R., carrying a hunch of wild flowers.) 

Rose. Good morning, Mr. Allen. 

Allen (turns quickly). Why, good morning, Schoolmarm. (Crosses 
to R. C.) Ain't you up rather early? 

Rose. Oh, I always like to get up early so as to get the benefit of this 
morning air. It's so exhilarating. Don't you think so? (Comes down to 

C.) 

Allen. Ex — ex — exhilarating. (Scratches head.) I shouldn't won- 
der but what it was. 

Rose (smiling). You folks are all coming over to the program my 
school children are going to give, aren't you? 

Allen. Wall, I calculate we'd have a scrumptious time all right. 
(Crosses to tree and expectorates behind the tree.) But ma says we ought 
to stay hum and paint the kitchen floor so I reckon we'll have to pustpone 
it. 

Rose (imploringly). I would like very much to have you come, if you 
thought you possibly could. The children are going to do splendidly, I 
think. (Crosses to bench and sits down.) 

Allen. Wall, you see, we farmers are pretty busy folks. We don't 
have no time to attend these society doin's. 

Rose. If I only could work up more interest in this community in 
the schoolhouse as a social center, we could have perfectly lovely times to- 
gether. (Looks up with a resolute little smile.) 

Allen. I reckon you will have to get them air fool notions out of 
your head. I was reading a piece t'other day in the farm paper. They 
wanted to make the skulehouse into one of these here employment agencies. 
Wall, of all the durn fool ideas I ever heard of, that takes the cake ! 
(Crosses to her and places one foot on bench.) 



10 BACK TO THE FARM 

Rose. What makes you think that? (Arranges her flowers.) 
Allen. Why, what do we farmers need of such a thing? We got 
enough work as it is. (Shifts his cud, and expectorates behind tree.) 
Them folks as writes them pieces gets paid for it. They don't know 
what we farmers need. All they got ter do is tell their typewriter wliat 
they want and the typewriter does it for 'em. 

(Enter Merill from L., carrying a mower sickle.) 

Merill. Good morning, Allen, yer over rather early. 

Allen. I left the old woman home ter do the chores. What can 
I do to help? 

Merill. Why, you can go out to the barn and harness up Tom and 
Jerry. Use the light set of driving harnesses. (Crosses to grindstone, 
and leans sick el against it.) 

Allen (to Rose). See that cow rubbin' her ear on that fence pust? 
(Points to the left.) 

Rose (rises and crosses to him). Yes. 

Allen. Wall, that's a sign of rain. 

Rose. Is that so? How do you make that out? 

Allen. When a cow tries to rub her ear, 
It means a shower is very near. 

Rose (laughingly). If I were you, Mr. Allen, I would train a cow 
to do that so you could have rain whenever you needed it. 

Allen. I don't think it works out that way. 

(Exeunt Rose and Allen, L. 

(Enter Merton, from the house. Crosses stage to R. C.) 

Merill (angrily on seeing him). Well, this is a pretty time of day 
to be getting up. If you intend to work for me, you will have to get up 
in the morning. I'm paying you wages just the same as any man. Where 
did you go last night? 

Merton (sulkily, after a pause). I went to the dance. 

Merill (amazed). Dance! You heard what I told j^ou about that 
dance, didn't you? (Pause.) Didn't you? 

Merton. Why, yes, but — 

Merill (interrupting). Just because you are getting old now I'm 
not going to have you gallivanting over the country. You are going to 
mind me as long as you stay here. 

Merton. Why, Gus went, why don't you — 

Merill (between his teeth, angrily). Never you mind what Gus did. 
I'm talking to you now. So long as you work for me you'll do just as 
I say. 

Merton (angrily). That's what you always say, but dcn't forget 
just because you are paying me wages, that I'm not a machine. I've got t.o 
have some fun. You can't expect me to stay here on the farm day in 
and day out. (Turns and crosses over to tree.) 



BACK TO THE FARM 



11 



Merill (following him up). We'll find out whether you can or not. 
The sooner we come to an understanding, the better. 

Merton (turns and faces his father). Now, look here, dad, I'm not 
a kid any more ! You treat me as if I was a little baby. I'm old enough 
to be a little independent. 




Mrs. Merill 



Farmer Merill 



Merill. Independent! You talking independence! Oh, yes, you've 
got a high-school education, I know. And it ain't going to hurt you a 
bit, now, if you forget about it. What could you do without me and 
the old farm? 



12 BACK TO THE FARM 

Merton. I can get something to do all right. I want to get out and 
see some of the world anyway. Life is too short to stay here on this 
little farm. 

Merill (somewhat more calmly). I would have given you a chance 
to go to the city to school, but you'd only have been discontented and not 
want to come back on the farm. 

Merton: If I did, it would be because I liked city life better than 
I do the farm. I don't have to stay here under the rule of your thumb all 
my life. I've been penned in here long enough. If I want to go to a 
dance, I'm going, whether you like it or not. 

Merill (in anger). Why, you independent, (raises hand as if to 
strike him) you, (pause) how dare you talk to me this way? 

Merton (holding father's arm). I am getting a little too old for 
such treatment, dad. That's the way you have made me see your side 
of an argument ever since I have been old enough to stand it. (Merill 
gradually drops hand to side.) I've worked out there in those fields for 
the past ten years and I have had a good deal of time to think things 
over seriously. I want to get away from this farm and do something 
worth while, something big. I have no opportunities here. It's the same 
continuous round, the four seasons of the year. I could plow, harrow, 
and plant grain when I was twelve years old, and still you want me to do 
this all my life, not rising above the standard of a twelve-year-old boy, 
with no chance to broaden my views or make the work interesting. 
(Turns and crosses over L.) 

(Enter Mrs. Merill, carrying a grape basket filled zvith eggs, 
followed by Gus.) 

Mrs. Merill (in surprise). Why, what's the matter, Merton? 
Merton (sulkily). Nothing much. 

(Exit Merton, L. 

(Enter Gus.) 

Gus (carrying milk pails, crosses to Merill who is looking after 
the boy in a dased sort of way, and sets down pails). Ay quit, ay vant 
ma pay. 

Merill (still staring after the bov absently). What's the matter, 
Gus? 

Gus (emphatically). Ay no milk your cow any more. Ay quit. 

Merill (as if noticing Gus for the first time). What's the trouble? 

Gus Ah, your vife she kick all a time. Ay quit. 

Mrs. Merill. I've told him time and time again not to put his 
hands in the milk, but that's all the good it does. This morning he did 
it again, FU not have it. It's a dirty, filthy habit. 

Gus. Ay, can't milk with a dry hand; ay vant ma pay. 

Merill (sternly). Gus, go out to the barn and finish milking. 

Gus. Dog-gone das — 

Merill (commandingly). You heard what I said. 



BACK TO THE FARM 13 

Gus. By golly, some day I vill quit. (Picks up pails and crosses to 
L. E.) Ay don't have to vork har all de^ time. These women make me 
so darn mad. 

(Exit Gus, L. 

Mrs. Merill (to Merill). Did you and Merton have a quarrel this 
morning? He was as white as a ghost when I came in. 

Merill. He didn't get in till two o'clock last night. Said he'd been 
to a dance. When I tried to call him down, he insulted me. It's the 
first time he's ever talked to me in this way. (Crosses to porch and buries 
his face in his hands.) 

Mrs. Merill (crosses to him; soothingly). Don't you think you are 
rather harsh with Merton, Pa? He's getting old now, almost a man. 
Merton has always been a good boy, and has done just as you told him. 
You should give him more liberty. You can't expect him to stay here on 
the farm and be contented, when you give him no more opportunities than 
you do. He sees Gus go out nights, and you say nothing to him. He 
thinks if he gets out he can have the same privileges. 

Merill (jumps to his feet; angrily). That's just like you! Always 
standing up for him. If I call him down for what he lias done, you side 
in and take his part. That's what's the trouble with him now. You wanted 
to send him to town to the high school. What good did it do him? 
Just got some of those new-fangled ideas into his head. He, isn't content 
to stay on the farm any more. He's going to stay here and do as I say 
or he's going to get out. Why don't he settle down now, he's got his 
education? I told him the other day that when he settled down and mar- 
ried I'd turn the farm over to him. But no, he's got to go chasing over 
the country first. I was married when I was his age. Why can't he? 

Mrs. Merill. Times have changed, pa; they don't do that way now. 

(Enter Merton, L.) 

Merill (to Merton). Sharpen up that sickle. 

(Exit Merill, L 

Mrs. Merill (to Merton, who has taken the sickle and proceeds to 
sharpen it). Why did you insist on going to the dance last night, when 
you knew it was contrary to your father's wishes? 

Merton. Oh, I don't know. (Sits facing right. Mrs. Merill looks 
at him sympathetically , and goes into the house.) 

(Enter Miss Rose from L., leading a shepherd dog and talking to it as she 

enters running.) 

Rose. Why, what's the matter with you, Don? You're not half so 
good a sprinter as I. (Opens gate and comes down to bench, sits down, 
strokes dog's head.) Why, do you know, I believe I could beat you eas- 
ily in a hundred-yard dash. But then you have the rheumatism. You are 
getting old, Don, you're not the dog you used to me. Every dog has his 
day and you've had yours, and a glorious life it has been too, hasn't it? 
AH the birds and jackrabbits that your little heart could desire to chase 



14 BACK TO THE FARM 

over the fields. Did you ever catch any, Don? I doubt it. Dogs are 
just like men. They will tramp all day in the hope of shooting a duck 
or a prairie chicken. (Tilts head sideways and speaks to Merton, who is 
furiously grinding the sickle. Shyly.) Did you hear that, Merton? Oh, 
Merton ! (Crosses to him.) I believe the cat has his tongue. (To dog.) 
Don't you, Don? Why don't you speak, Merton? 

Merton (laughs and looks up). I'm mad. 

Rose (shakes finger at him, warningly) . Angry. Any one of my 
children would have known better than that. Only dogs get mad. (To 
dog.) Isn't it so, Don? (Tantalisingly.) Did Merton's papa chastise 
him for running away to the dance? (Merton grinds.) No? Maybe his 
mamma chastised him. Couldn't Merton have his own way? (Merton 
throws his sickle down and starts for her with arms ontsftretched.) 

Merton. I'll fix you for this. (She dodges under his arm, and runs 
past him leaving the tree between them.) 

Rose. You are not going to touch me. (To dog.) Don't you let 
him, Don. You bite him if he comes past that tree. 

Merton. If I had you in my arms once I'd fix you for this. 

Rose. You're not going to touch me. (Strikes dramatic attitude.) 
Villain, don't you pass that dividing line. (Laughs.) 

Merton (earnestly). Come, now, be reasonable, we'll compromise. 
I'll not touch you if you will tell me why you wouldn't go to the dance 
with me last night. 

Rose. Your father didn't want you to go. You should do as your 
father — 

Merton. That's no reason why you couldn't go. 

Rose. / didn't think you should go either. 

Merton. Why not? 

Rose. Why, you're young, and you work hard all day, and besides 
the dances they have around here are not just exactly proper. 

Merton. I was awfully mad — no, angry — at you last night. 

Rose. I know you were. 

Merton. I went anyway. 

Rose. And you made your father awfully mad — angry. 

Merton. Aw, say mad, it's more expressive. I know I did, but pa's 
old-fashioned. He doesn't stop to think he was once a kid. I'll bet he 
went out nights when he was a boy. 

Rose. Most likely that's the reason he wants to bring you up properly. 
You can benefit by his experience. 

Merton. No, that doesn't work out. Everyone has to find out for 
himself. 

Rose. Then you did find out. 

Merton. I feel awfully bum this morning. 

Rose (laughs). That's the boy, I knew you would own up to it. 
You can sit down if you want to. (They both sit on bench. Exit Don, L.) 
The trouble with you is you are so headstrong that if any one wants you 
to do a thing, you want to do just the opposite. 



BACK TO THE FARM IS 

Merton. You seem to understand my disposition pretty well. (Sits 
nearer.) 

Rose. I can only judge others by myself. My father didn't want me 
to come out here and teach, but I wanted to get away. I think I am quite 
efficient in my practical knowledge of human nature. 

Merton. Then you know how I feel toward you, Rose. 

Rose. Toward me? 

Merton. Yes. 

Rose. Why, I suppose you are annoyed at me for not going to the 
dance with you last night? 

Merton. It's not that. 

Rose. What then? (Suddenly becomes preoccupied, fingering the 
flowers on her hat.) 

Merton (squaring his shoulders and clearing his throat). Oh — well, 
you see, — I — Miss Meade — Rose, it's this way, I've known you ever since 
you started to teach school here and boarded here at our house. 

Rose. Yes. 

Merton (leaning forward and speaking in soft tones). Well, you've 
been awfully good to me, and I've liked you from the first — and — well — 
I've tried to be the same to you. (After a brief pause.) I want to ask 
you to — (takes her hand in his) Rose, I love you, and I want to ask — 

Rose (rises and stands; pleadingly). Please don't go on — 

Merton (pleadingly). No, don't go, Rose, I'm dead in earnest about 
this, sit down. (She obeys.) You know what I was going to ask you? 

Rose. You were going to ask me — to — 

Merton. Marry me. 

Rose. Please don't. 

Merton. Why not? 

Rose. It's so utterly impossible. 

Merton. I don't see why! 

Rose. Why I — I had thought — (half rises). 

Merton. No, wait. It's some one else? Some city fellow? 

Rose. No, it's not that. 

Merton. What is it, then? 

Rose. Please don't ask me. Can't you see? 

Merton. No. Father told me the other day that when I married and 
settled down he'd turn the farm over to me. This is a good farm, and — 

Rose. It is not that I am thinking about. 

Merton. Then what is it? Tell me. Don't you like me? 

Rose. Why, yes, I think you are a nice boy. I haven't looked at it— 
I never thought of you in any other way. Can't you see? 

Merton. No. 

Rose. You are hardly more than a boy, only twenty. 

Merton. Lots of folks get married at that age. I don't think I could 
make a better choice, if I lived ever so long. 

Rose. It's so impossible, Merton, I was brought up in the city. My 
people have let me have all that I asked for. I never did any real hard 



16 BACK TO THE FARM 

work. I couldn't become accustomed to the life on the farm. What 
would my life be here? 

Merton. What more does a girl want ? What is a girl's ambition but 
to get married and have a home? 

Rose. I couldn't become a farmer's wife. The man I marry must 
provide me with the conveniences that I am accustomed to. What is the 
life of a farmer's wife? She must work from sunrise to sunset. Work! 
Work ! Work ! Nothing but dull drudgery. 

Merton (rises). I hadn't thought about it in that way before. Come 
to think about it, you wouldn't make me a very good wife. I hadn't 
thought of this matter seriously enough. I suppose you would marry any 
man that could furnish you with an automobile, fine clothes, cut flowers, 
and luxuries of all kinds. Is that your idea of happiness? 

Rose. Merton ! 

Merton. Can't I choose a wife with regard to my own happiness? 
If we loved each other in the right way, if we understood life at its 
best, we would stand shoulder to shoulder, and work humbly and grate- 
fully at whatever was at hand. But being a farmer I can't have a wife 
who will bring up my children with high ideals and great aspirations. 
Why? Because a farmer's wife must be able to work, cook, sew, scrub, 
clean house. Do you think that is the reason I asked you to marry me? 
Answer me, do you? 

Rose (rises and crosses over). But, Merton, that is the view that 
most of the farmers take of the situation. There is a great deal of truth 
in what you say. More than you imagine. 

Merton (crosses to her, takes her hand in his). But just the same. 
Rose, I love you. I am going ofif and learn how to farm. I know there 
must be ways of doing it right and some day I'll come back and make 
you see that the right kind of a farm home is the happiest place on earth. 

Rose. You never can do it, Merton. It isn't possible. 

Merton. Just you wait and see. 



(Enter Gus, singing, from L. E. Rose and Merton move suddenly apart, 
looking embarrassed. Gus is carrying pails full of milk, his clothes are 
covered with chaff.) 

Gus. "Open vide de vindows and drive out sin, and let ay little 
sunshine in." (To Merton.) Say, Merton, da ol man, he vants ter know 
vot you did vid das hare set of vagon double-tras. (He sets the pail down 
in front of Rose.) 

Merton. They are on the drag. (Crosses to grindstone and resumes 
the task of sharpening sickle. Rose crosses and sits on bench. Gus 
crosses to L. E. and calls off wings.) 

Gus. Mr. Merill, day ban on der drag by da granary. (Crosses to 
pails. Looks at Rose.) Hello. 

Rose (to Gus). Why, Gus, have you been burrowing in the straw 



BACK TO THE FARM 17 

pile? Your clothes are covered with chaff. You look like a typical 
hayseed. 

Gus. No, ay vos yust stooping over in das manger to get some bed- 
ding and das here cow he got too fresh mit his horns, and butted me right 
up in das har manger. (Rose laughs. Gits stands over the milk pails and 
brushes the chaff from his clothes.) 

Rose (screams). Don't. 

Gus (jumps). Vot ban the matter vid you.'' 

Rose. You are brushing that chaff and dirt right into the milk. 

Gus. Val, ain't I going to strain it? 

Rose. You might get the milk contaminated with germs. 

Gus. Veil, I'll strain dem out, too ! 

Rose (laughs). They are so small you can't strain them out! 

Gus. Val, dan dey ain't going to hurt nobody. Ay ban, on the farm 
pretty long while, and ay ain't seen no germs yet. Das har postmaster 
over in town he says there vas germs in everything. He says at ban 
dangerous to handle paper money, but ha don't stop none to take a chaw 
of my tarbacker. 

Mrs. Merill (from doorway). Gus, you hurry in with that milk. 
It seems to me you could do the milking in less time than it takes you. 

Gus. Val, ay can't do everyting at vonce. (Picks up the pails and 
goes into the house.) 

Rose (crosses to Merton). You can't make Gus believe there is any- 
thing but what he can see. 

(Enter Mr. Ashley, L.) 

Ashley (crossing to gate). Good morning. (Tips his cap.) 

Rose (turns). Why, it's Mr. Ashley. Hunting so early in the morn- 
ing? 

Ashley. Well, they do say that "the eiarly bird catches the worm." 
(Opens gate and comes down stage.) I don't know whether that rule will 
apply to the man catching the bird or not. You don't happen to know of 
a covey around here do you, Merton ? (Shakes hands with Rose.) 

Merton. There's one down at the end of the corn field, but I was 
figuring on them myself. Won't you stop for breakfast? 

Ashley. Is breakfast ready? 

Merton. Very nearly, I guess. 

Ashley. Well, now, I say, that is a temptation. I wanted to seei Mr. 
Merill on a little business matter, anyway. 

Merton (calls to house). Ma! 

Mrs. Merill (from house). Yes. (Comes to doorway with hands 
covered with flour.) 

Merton. Mr. Ashley is going to stop for breakfast. 

Mrs. Merill. Good morning, Mr. Ashley. (Ashley tips his cap.) 
We're not having much for breakfast. Do you like baking powder biscuits 
and honey? 



18 BACK TO THE FARM 

Ashley (claps his hands with delight). Do I? Homemade baking- 
powder biscuits and honey! Could I think of anything more delicious? 
To my mind homemade biscuits and honey are the acme of life. 

Mrs. Merill. Then do stay! 

(Exit Mrs. Merill into house. 

Rose. You must get tired of boarding at the hotel all the time. 

Ashley. I should say I do. 

Rose. I don't see why you remain a bachelor, Mr. Ashley, with all 
the pretty girls there are in town. I should think you would find one 
that could make baking-powder biscuits for you. 

Ashley. There is a certain young lady that teaches school, outsidei of 
town, that looks very charming to me. (Laughs and crosses stage, leans 
gun against the tree. Rose rises and crosses toward house.) 

Merton (to Rose, who is beside him.) There is your chance, Rose, 
he'll buy you all the automobiles you want. 

Rose (stamps foot indignantly). Merton, you let that matter drop! 

(Exit Rose into house. 

(Enter Gus from the house with milk pails.) 

Gus (Crosses to Mr. Ashley). Good morning, Mr. Ashley, ay vas 
yust going down to feed the pigs. Ve got some fine vons. Vant to see 
them? 

Ashley. No, I came to see Mr. Merill. 

Gus. He ban down to the barn. 

Mrs. Merill (from doorway). Gus, you bring me in an armful of 
wood, quick. 

Gus. Ya. (Mrs. Merill goes into house). By golly, das here voraen 
folks dey work a man to deat'. (Picks up pails.) 

(Exit Gus, L. 

Merton (crosses to Ashley). Mr. Ashley. 

Ashley (turns). Yes. 

Merton. I'd like to have your opinion of a certain matter. 

Ashley. Why, certainly. (Crosses to R. C.) 

Merton. I suppose you lawyers want pay for all the advice you 
give out. 

Ashley (smiles). Well, now, that depends. We're not all as bad 
as we are painted. 

Merton. I've made up my mind that I need further education. I've 
never been off the farm. All I know about farming I've learned from 
doing it. Aren't there places where they teach you how, and why? It 
seems to me you could save a lot of time and work if you knew the best 
methods. Men get trained for almost every other kind of occupation — why 
not for farming? 

Ashley. Certainly, Merton, you have hit the nail on the head. Many 
of the best universities now have agricultural schools, and every year 
their value to the community increases. It won't be long before it will 
be considered as shortsighted for a man to try to be a farmer without 



BACK TO THE FARM 19 

any training, as it would for him to be an engineer. (They cross to bench, 
sit, and continue conversation.) 

(Enter Mrs. Merill, and Gus, L. C, carrying an armful of wood.) 

Mrs. Merill (from doorway, to Gus). Well, it's time you got in with 
that wood, the fire is nearly out. I might a good deal better do things 
myself than expect you to do them. 

Gus (crossing stage). Val, ay can't do everything at vonce. (Falls 
on porch step and scatters wood on the porch.) 

Mrs. Merill. Land sakes ! You are the awkwardest man I ever saw. 
Now pick that wood up and put it into the woodbox where it belongs. 
You can't seem to do a thing without making a mess of it. 

Gus (begins calmly to pick up the wood). Dog-gone das. Ay get me 
mad, by golly, ay going to quit. 

Mrs. Merill. Well, you won't quit till you get this wood ofif my 
front porch, I'll tell you that. 

(Exit into house. 

Gus (calls after her). Ay vill tal Mr. Merill on you. He'll fix 
you. (Exit Gus with wood. Noise as if wood were dropped into box, 
and Mrs. Merill's voice is heard scolding him.) 

Ashley. Gus has been with you for some time, hasn't he? 

Merton. Ever since I can remember. Father wouldn't fire him for 
all the men in the state. 

(Enter Gus.) 

Gus (crossing stage, singing). "Open vide the vindows and drive 
out sin, and let a little sunshine in." 

Ashley (to Gus). What will you take for the song, Gus? 

Gus (turns, shakes head). At ain't for sale. 

(Exit Gus, L. 

Merton (to Ashley). I like the farm, Mr. Ashley, but I want to get 
out where they are dqing really big things. Any one can farm the way 
we do. Many of the farmers around here have been successful, some of 
them never saw the inside of a school. 

Ashley. They have made a great deal of their money by land specu- 
lation. They live very near to the soil, and far away from the rest of the 
world. What the farm needs to-day is men who will farm scientifically,' 
common-sense farming, if you like that better. We must get awayf from 
this one-crop idea. Unless we do, this land will run down like the land 
in the eastern states. 

Merton. I have never considered farming a very high calling. 

Ashley. It is true that the word "hayseed" has been a term of con- 
tempt. But not so to-day. Farming is becoming a highly respectable 
occupation. To be an honest tiller of the soil is to be a sovereign of 
the people. Every merchant, banker, and professional man is directly 
dependent upon the farmer for his own healthful existence. 



20 BACK TO THE FARM 

Merton. Would there be any money in it for me, I mean big money? 

Ashley (standing). Possibly no enormous amount. Not all the trial 
balances in life can be struck out in figures. 

Merton. Would you advise me to go to an agricultural college? 

Ashley. Yes, if you like the farm. It is no longer true to say that 
farming is too small a field for a really big man. I hope you will forgive 
me for preaching a sermon like this, but it is a subject that I' have taken 
a great deal of interest in, as one of great importance. 

Merton (standing). I thank you, Mr. Ashley, for the advice you 
have given. You have started me thinking. 

Ashley. I wouldn't act hastily in the matter; explain your wants to 
your father, arrange it so that you can work here on the farm in the 
summer months. 

Merton. No. I want to be independent, I have enough money in 
the bank to carry me through oue year, I guess, and in the summer I can 
go out in different localities. 

Ashley. Boy, let me give you one piece of advice. As long as you 
have a home to go to, go there. Put your learning into practice here, 
on the farm. Make this farm the best producer in the state. You 
can do it. 

Merton (shakes Ashley's hand). I'll do it. Thank you, Mr. Ashley. 

Ashley. If you are dead in earnest about this, you will succeed. 
But remember success depends upon the man, his knowledge and judg- 
ment, and his persistence. 

(Enter Mr. Merill and Reuben Allen at L. C, talking as they 
enter. Cross stage.) 

Allen. I tell you it is going to rain. 

Merill (Upon noticing Ashley). Good morning, Ashley, hunting? 
(Shakes hands.) 

Ashley. Yes, I walked across lots. I hoped I mi^ht scare up a few 
chickens. I wanted to see you in regard to the mortgage. Your folks 
persuaded me to stop for breakfast. 

Merill. Why, sure, come on over any time. You're welcome. 

Ashley. You certainly are hospitable. 

Merill (io Merton). Say, Merton, go down and chase that black 
and white heifer up out of the corn. I'm afraid she'll get more than's 
good for her. (Merton crosses to L. E.) And take a hammer along with 
you and fix up the fence there below the barn. 

(Exit Merton, L. 

Allen (to Ashley). I was telling Charles as how he hadn't ought 
to get down any hay, as I calculated as how it was going to rain. 

Merill. Are you a weather prophet? It doesn't look like rain. 

Allen. Wall, I've been pretty gosh durn observing in my time, 
and when I sees the sun come up behind that cloud this morning, I 'spects 
as how it was going to rain and then I heard a pig squeal last night, 



BACK TO THE FARM 21 

that's a sure sign. I never knew that un to fail. (Crosses to bench, picks 
up a stick and busies himself zvhittling it.) 

Ashley (to Merill). I brought that mortgage over for your signa- 
ture. (Takes folded mortgage from his pocket.) It is filled out properly, 
I think. Mr. Allen, will you act as a witness ? 

Allen. Sure ; buying more land, Merill ? 

(Enter Mrs. Merill from doorway.) 

Merill. Yes, I bought that quarter joining on the north where old 
man Smith lived. 

Mrs. Merill (in surprise). What? 

•Merill (taken back). Why, I am buying that quarter— 

Mrs. Meril (interrupting). Buying more land? What do you want 
of more land? 

Merill. Why, I thought I could manage that quarter— 

Mrs. Merill (commandingly). Well, you don't need it, and you 
ain't going to buy it. Going to raise more hogs, I suppose— to buy more 
land. We ain't going to need it, and we're not going to have it. What's 
that paper you've got? (Snatches it from his hand.) 

Merill. That's the mortgage. 

Mrs. Merill (in surprise). Mortgage! (Drops mortgage.) Mort- 
gage! (pleadingly) You weren't going to mortgage the homestead, 
were you? I'm just scared to death of a mortgage. Charley, you're not 
going to mortgage the — 

Merill (in anger). I guess I know what I am doing. You go into 
the house and let me attend to my own affa.irs. 

Mrs. Merill (pleadingly). Don't, please. Please don't, pa. We've 
lived on the homestead for so long, and you're sure to lose it if — 

Ashley (stoops and picks mortgage from ground). Well, if that's 
the way your wife feels I suppose it is all off. I didn't particularly care 
whether I sold it or not. I can get sixty for it in' a year or so. 

Merill (to Mrs. Merill). I'll tend to this myself. Do you want 
to have me lose this chance?' It's a good speculation. (Takes mortgage 
from Ashley.) I know what I'm about. Haven't I kept the farm so far? 
I'm not going to have you whimpering around here. We'll go into the 
house and fix it up. 

Mrs. Merill (disgusted). Pa, I don't want you to do it. 

Merill. Well, I'm going to, so that settles it. 

Mrs. Merill (crosses slowly to house). I'm sure something will 
go wrong. 

(Exit Mrs. Merill into house. 
Merill (in disgust). Just like a woman. Scared to death of any- 
thing like a mortgage. 

(Exit Merill into house. 

Ashley. May I have your signature also, Mr. Allen? 

Allen. Sure. 

(Exeunt Ashley and Allen into house. 



22 BACK TO THE FARM 

(Enter Gus. He goes to washbench, pours out some water into wash- 
basin and washes vigorously. Then he zvipes his face and hands.) 

Gus (looking into house). By golly! Ve goin' to have company 
for breakfast, she's got on a vhite tablecloth. (Puts hand in pocket and 
pulls it out with a disgusted look.) Yee! Dar vas an egg in dar. 

(Exit Gus into house. 

(Enter Merill.) 

(Merill goes to grindstone and picks up sickle. Re-enter Ashley.) 

Ashley. That's a fine piece of land, Mr. Merill. As good a piece 
as there is in the state. (Crosses to bench.) Merton just expressed a 
desire to further his education. 

Merill (who has just been examining the sickle, turns quickly). 
What's that? 

Ashley. Said he wanted to go of¥ somewhere to school. I tried to 
show him the value of an agricultural education. 

Merill (puts sickle down). Well, he'll have to get that idea out 
of his head. 

Ashley. Don't you think it would be beneficial to him here on 
the farm? 

Merill. No, I don't. He's just getting old' enough now so as he 
can do a little work. I ain't got money to spend on him, so as he can 
learn to play football and crokinole and basket-ball and such darn fool 
games. 

Ashley. But, Mr. Merill, surely you don't think that all their time is 
spent in athletics. 

Merill. Well, a good deal of it is. In order to be able to farm you 
don't have to be able to orate at a debating society. You can't learn 
how to farm in a laboratory nor by reading books. It's the experience you 
need in farming. I ain't had no schooling to speak of, and I'm just as 
good a farmer as any of 'em. 

Ashley. One of the worst drawbacks that agriculture has to-day 
is the difficulty of inducing the farmer to adopt improved methods. 

Merill. Well, I reckon they are wise enoug'h not to let any white- 
fingered men, who read out of books, tell them what to do. 

Ashley. It's an absolute fact, Mr. Merill, that the farms in this lo- 
cality are producing less each year. What we need to do is to increase 
our production, and the only solution of the problem is the employment 
of more improved methods. 

Merill. Ah! that idea's just a fad! They'll get over it in time. 

(Enter Mrs. Merill.) 
Mrs. Merill. Breakfast is ready. 



BACK TO THE FARM 23 

Ashley (crosses over). I hope you didn't make any extra prepara- 
tions, Mrs. Merill. 

Mrs. Merill. Oh, mercy, no. 

(Exeunt Mrs. Merill and Ashley into house. 

(Enter Merton from L. E., crosses to ivash bench, and starts to wash.) 

Merill (putting down sickle and picking up a whip from the ground). 
Ashley was just telling me that you want to go to an agricultural col- 
lege. 

Merton. Yes, I had a little talk with him about it. 

Merill. Well, you had better change your mind. 

Merton. Why should I? 

Merill. Because you are going to stay here on the farm. 

Merton. Mr. Ashley says that I could run the farm better if I had— 

Merill. I don't care what Ashley says, you're going to stay here, 
and the sooner you get that notion out of your head the better. Now, 
I'm going to give you your choice, stay here on the farm and do as I 
say or get out. If you get out, you're out for good. 

Merton (turns; pauses). I'm going to get an agricultural education. 

Merill. What ? 

Merton. I don't feel like settling down here on the farm just yet. 
If you want to put it that way, I suppose I'll have to get out. 

Merill (angrily). I'll give you just thirty seconds to change your 
mind. 

Merton. I don't intend to. 

Merill. You don't? (Strikes him with whip.) 

(Enter Mrs. Merill.) 

Mrs. Merill. Pa! 

Merill. Go into the house ! (Strikes him again. Merton steps back. 
Mrs. Merill rushes to him and places her hands on his arm. Merill pushes 
her aside. Merton then takes the whip from Merill, breaks it in pieces, 
and throws it on the ground.) 

Merton. I've stood all of that I'm going to. 

Merill (in mad rage). You've taken your choice, now go up to 
your room and pack up what belongings you have, and go ! 

Mrs. Merill (comes forward). Pa, you don't mean — 

Merill. He's taken his choice, he gets out. (To Merton.) Don't 
you ever set foot on this farm again! (Points to door.) Go! (Merton 
goes out followed by Mrs. Merill, wiping her eyes on her apron.) 

. (Curtain) 



ACT II 




Mrs, Merill's Entrance in Act II 

Scene, ballroom at the fraternity house. Fireplace R., settee L., frappe 
table U. R., arm chair in front of fireplace. At rise of curtain several 
couples are dancing. Music stops and they gather around the frappe bowl. 
■Margerie and Robert come forward. 



Margerie. Here's a nice cool place. Let's sit down. (They sit on set- 
tee.) 

Robert. Pretty good crowd out to-night. There's nothing like feeling 
that it's the last time to make you appreciate a thing like this. 

Margerie. That's so. "Bright college years," as the song says, are 
over for us. By the way, who's that man over there with Rose? His 
college years have been over for some time, I should say. 

Robert. That? oh, that's old Ashley — 1900. Funny to see him skip- 
ping about with the kids. Wonder what brought him — ■ 

Margerie. Why, he's here with Rose. She brought him or rather 
he brought her. Didn't you see them come in? 

Robert. Oh, of course, I remember now. He's been sweet on her 
this long time. Been down three times this winter to see her in Chicago. 

Margerie. What's she doing in Chicago? 

Robert. Oh, she's at the University studying Domestic Science, Home 
Economics, or one of those new freak courses. 

Margerie (rising). Foxy lady. That's the way to capture a husband 
these days. Just bait your hook with the art of Home-making with a 
capital H. You can land them every time. 

24 



BACK TO THE FARM 



25 



Robert (rising; indignantly). Nothing of the sort. Rose doesn't 
need any extra bait on her hook. She's a peach. She can have me 
any day in the week. 




Margerie: "How about you? You're no bait for peaches." 

Margerie (mischievously). She doesn't, eh? Well, how about you? 
You're no bait for peaches. 

Robert. Oh, come along. We're missing all the dance.. 

(Exeunt all. 



26 BACK TO THE FARM 



(Enter Rose and Merton.) 

Rose. This is pleasant! Isn't it? 

Merton. Yes, there goes the music. Let's sit it out. Would you 
mind? Somehow, I don't feel like dancing to-night. 

Rose.. Why not? You used to be so keen about dancing. (Sits in 
arm chair, R. Merton stands talking to her.) 

Merton. Oh, I don't know. I guess it is seeing you again after all 
these years. It brings it all back— that last day at home — just think, it 
has been five years. 

Rose. Five years! So it has. And how is everything at home? Are 
your father and mother well? 

Merton. Father and mother ! Why, Rose, don't you know ? I've never 
seen either of them since that day. Father's never forgiven me. He 
won't let mother even mention my name, or write to me if he knows it. 
She does smuggle letters out, though, sometimes. But it's been ever so 
long now since I had a letter from her, and I'm afraid things aren't going 
very well out there. 

Rose. Yes, but Merton, haven't you ever gone back and asked your 
father to forgive you? He couldn't hold out if he really saw you and felt 
you had given in. 

Merton. No, I haven't. If he'd say the word, I'd go in a minute, but 
to crawl back like a whipped dog and say I was sorry — I just can't. I 
suppose there is too much Merill in me for that — and I wasn't wrong, 
either. (Draws up chair and leans on back.) 

Rose. No, I don't believe you were, but still, Merton, he is your 
father. And think of your mother! 

Merton. I do think of her. Poor mother ! 

Rose. But, Merton, how did you get on at first — how did you live? 
Wasn't it awfully hard getting started? 

Merton (sitting). Hard? Well, I should say it was. I tell you. 
Rose, there are times when I would have chucked the whole thing for 
half a cent. That was a pretty bitter day for me. I lost everything at 
one blow, — parents, home, and hope — the old home I'd grown up in, and 
the new one I'd dreamed of, and — some of my faith in women to boot. 

Rose (trying to change the subject). Yes, but tell me about it. How 
did you get a start? 

Merton. Oh, I came up here and worked my way, a little of every- 
thing — waiting on tables, tending furnaces — anything I could get. It was 
easier after the first year. I tell you. Rose, there are some bully men in 
the college faculty. The way they will stand back of a fellow when 
they see he's in earnest is certainly great. W-hen such men have faith 
in you, it bolsters up your faith in yourself. 

Rose. Poor Merton ! 

Merton (standing). Oh, not so poor. I'm all right now. After the 
first summer I've had a job for the state every vacation. I've paid my way, 



BACK TO THE FARM 27 

and saved something besides. Yes, Miss Meade, behold in me an embryo 
Rockefeller. I've got money in the bank. 

Rose. That's splendid. (Rises and crosses L. to settee.). Well, now 
you're through with the University, what will you do, teach? 

Merton. I could. I've a fine offer just this week from the Extension 
Division, good pay, congenial work, and a chance to rise; but. Rose, do 
you remember what I told you that last morning at home? Well, I just 
can't get that idea out of my mind. Only then it was a dream, built on 
hopes and imagination ; now it's a vision developed from my life and expe- 
rience. I want to show what a farm can be — what a farm home can be — ■ 
when there's enthusiasm, knowledge, and trained ability back of it. And 
I'm going to do it. I have some money, as I told you, and I am planning 
to start. in a small way on an undeveloped farm in the northern part of 
the state. 

Rose. That sounds interesting. (Sits on settee.) 

Merton (sitting by Rose). Rose, if I made good, made a go of it, do 
you suppose you'd ever change your mind? 

Rose (half rising, embarrassed and pleading). Oh, Merton, please 
don't, to-night — 

(Enter Robert Powell and Margerie Langdon.) 

Robert. Oh, Merton — telephone ! "Mr. Merill wanted at the phone." 
just like a popular doctor. I tell you. Miss Meade, Merton's some pump- 
kins these days. 

(E.vit Merton, R. 

Robert. Heard about the dandy offer he had from the Extension Di- 
vision? The chance of the year. 

Margerie (sitting comfortably in the easy chair). And what do you 
think he told me ? That he wasn't going to take it. Wants to be a farmer. 
Can you beat it? Not for me, thank you. I can do without the morning- 
songs of the birds and the sunrises and the fresh air of heaven, if I can 
have a warm bathroom and a gas range and a chance to see somebody 
besides cows and pigs once in a while. It's work all day and then some 
for the farmer's wife. I spent a month on a farm once. That cured me. 
Up before daylight, cooking for a lot of men, nice little journeys out to 
the pump and woodpile — such good exercise in the fresh air. Then when 
you've got the men out of the way, there are the chickens and the ducks 
and the pigs and the dogs and the milk — mercy, there's no end of it ! And 
when you do finally get cleaned up, the hired man comes in with his 
muddy boots and tramps all over your floor. Oh, it's a gay life ! 

(During this speech Rose has listened with rising indignation.) 

Rose (forgetting herself). I don't think that's fair at all. A farmer's 
wife doesn't need to have such a hard time if she's any kind of a manager, 
and knows anything about home economics. They can have just as com- 
fortable a home as any one, certainly a great deal more comfortable than 
one of those stuffy little city flats. 



28 BACK TO THE FARM 

(Enter Ashley, R.) 

Margerie. Oh, a new Daniel come to judgment! Since when did you 
become an advocate of the simple life, Rose? Perhaps you would like to 
go out with Merton and help him in his little object lesson — how to be 
happy tho a farmer? 

Rose. Don't be silly, Margerie! But if you'd seen as much of cities 
as I have in the past five years, perhaps some of your illusions would, be 
gone, too. There's something more to life than bodily ease and comfort. 
Smarth clothes, afternoon teas, and a chance to go to the movies every time 
you feel like it don't make character. Anybody can keep up a bluff in 
town, but it takes real men and women to make good in the country. 
When you come up against the elemental forces of nature, you've got to 
have something in you or go under. Why do all the best men" come 
from the country? Just that! 

Margerie (rising). Oh come along, Robert. This sounds like preach- 
ing. I want to dance. 

(Exeunt Robert and Margerie, R. 

Ashley (who has stood, R., listening). Why, Miss Meade, you are 
quite an orator. I didn't know you felt so strongly about cities. Was that 
why you gave up your life in New York? 

Rose (sits on settee). Yes, it was. Two years of it were all I could 
stand. I felt smothered. So I just made up my mind I'd go to Chicago 
and learn to teach girls how to live where life could mean something. 
I've finished my course, and have my position. It's out in your town, too. 
I'm going to have a consolidated school! Isn't it splendid? 

Ashley. Oh, yes, I suppose so, but I'm getting tired of the country. 
In a year or two I hope to open up an office in St. Paul. Maybe I will 
be in New York before I die. 

Rose. Don't say New York to me! I hate it. 

Ashley. The country's all right; the trouble is with the farmers, they 
are not progressive. Why, there's the Merill place — ^best land in the 
state, all run down, crops failing, mortgaged. That's one of the disagree- 
able things I've got to do when I get back, foreclose that mortgage. 

Rose (rising, shocked). Oh, Mr. Ashley, you can't turn the Merills 
out of their home. Does Merton know? 

Ashley. No, I don't suppose he does. The old man's been nursing 
his wrath like a bear with a sore head all this time. Won't hear Merton's 
name mentioned, and now that Merton has taken up new methods he's 
more set against him than ever. Between you and me, I believe he's been 
eating his heart out for the boy all these years, and too proud to admit it. 

Rose (sitting). And Merton's tip here eating his heart out, too! Oh, 
Mr. Ashley, it's too bad. Can't you do something to bring them to- 
gether ? 

Ashley. Well— perhaps— maybe, but then— Rose, Miss Meade (sits 
by Rose), they are not the ones I am interested in bringing together. 
You must have seen that. Now that you have finished your course in Chi- 
cago, why not start right in applying it? What can be better practice for a 



BACK TO THE FARM 29 

graduate in Home Economics than making a home? You could do your 
teaching by example, and at the same time you could make me the hap- 
piest man on earth. Won't you try? (Takes her hand.) 

Rose (trying to draw away). No, indeed, Mr. Ashley, I couldn't. 
Please don't. 

(Enter Merton. Sees them. An embarrassed pause.) 

Merton. Oh, excuse me. I was just looking for— 

Rose (jumping up embarrassed). Don't go, Merton. Mr. Ashley was 
just telling me — that is — I mean — Oh, what was your telephone? 

(Enter dancers and Robert, who form group around frappe bowl.) 

Merton. Oh, that. It was my roommate. Curious thing, says there 
is a lady at the house to see me. Won't give her name. 

Robert. A mysterious lady ! This is exciting. Is it your past run- 
ning you down? 

Merton. Don't be ridiculous. It's an old lady, seems distressed. 
Who could it be? My — (interrupted by music.) 

Robert (to Rose). Is this our dance. Miss Meade? 

Rose (consulting program). I believe it is. 

* (Exeunt Robert and Rose, C, foUozved by group. 

Merton (crossing to Ashley). Don't you have this dance? 

Ashley (consulting program). No, I'm not booked. 

Merton. Good. I've been anxious to have a talk with you. 

Ashley. Come over here and sit down. (Ashley sits in arm chair by 
fireplace, Merton brings up chair from near frappe table and stands lean- 
ing on it.) 

Merton. I want to hear the news from home. It's been months 
since I heard from mother, and I'm getting pretty anxious. 

Ashley. Then you haven't heard — 

Merton. Nothing. Is there anything wrong? 

Ashley. No, and yes. The farm is running along in the same old 
rut, only worse. This was a bad year out our way. Your father's crops 
dried up. You know he doesn't put them in right. 

Merton (sitting). No, just scratches the top of the ground. 

Ashley. He had to sell off his stock because he hadn't feed for 
them. 

Merton. What dad needs is a silo. 

Ashley. Yes, there are lots of things he needs. Then his hogs got 
cholera and most of them turned up their toes. 

Merton. Didn't he have them vaccinated? 

Ashley. Vaccinated ! Did you ever know your father to take up 
with any of those "new-fangled notions," as he calls them? 

Merton. Well, it's too bad he lost his hogs. Anything else? 

Ashley. No, except he's laid up with rheumatism and couldn't put in 
his crops himself. 

Merton. He has help, hasn't he? 



30 BACK TO THE FARM 

Ashley. Yes, Gus is with him yet. He's afraid to quit for fear he'll 
never get what your father owes him. 

Merton. Well, Ashley, this is all news to me. You see it's been a 
long time since I've heard from mother. 

Ashley. The worst of all is, of course, the mortgage. 

Merton (starting up). What mortgage? 

Ashley. Didn't you know your father's farm was mortgaged? Let 
me see! He mortgaged it the day you left home. He's been able to 
meet the payments every year until this one. Now he's so 'hard up for 
cash that he can't. 

Merton (leaning on mantel). Mother never told me anything about it. 

Ashley. I'm surprised at that. I suppose she wanted to save you 
from worrying. 

Merton. That's just like mother. 

Ashley. Here's a letter I received from the company last night. 
(Hands letter to Merton). Unless the interest is paid by the first of June 
they say I am to foreclose. (Merton, sits and reads leiter.) I hate to do 
it. It's downright mean. But you see they say there's no money in this 
mortgage unless they do foreclose. 

Merton (folds letter and gives it hack). Poor mother! 

Ashley. It's too bad, Merton, that you can't help them out, but I 
know a man at college is always on the rocks. I was there myself not so 
very long ago. But I hate to see that farm go into the hands of a land 
company. There is money in it if it were worked right. Your father is 
getting old, too. But no one can blame you if the old man does lose his 
farm. 

Morton (standing). Perhaps not. But I might blame myself. Five 
years of hustling have been pretty good training for me. I have decided 
that I was a headstrong young fool. I am not as hard up as you suppose. 
I have worked some, I can tell you, and now I'm graduating with money 
in the bank. 

Ashley. That's fine. 

Merton. Do you know, Ashley, I love the farm. I'm planning to be- 
gin in a small way on some cut-over land in the northern part of the state. 
Can get it cheap from a lumber company. I have my crop rotation 
planned for three years. 

Ashley. That's why you turned down the Extension Division? 

Merton. You bet. I'm going to have some of the land cleared right 
away and sow clover. I know where I can get some good Holstein cattle, 
and in a few years I intend to work into the dairy business. 

Ashley (standing). You'll succeed. You have the right kind of stuff 
In you. 

Merton. But that mortgage, Ashley, Isn't there any way of adjusting 



it? 



Ashley. No, the interest must be paid or the farm goes. 

Merton. How much Is It? 

Ashley. Four hundred and eighty dollars. 



BACK TO THE FARM 31 

Merton. That would just about clean me out. 

Ashley. The old man doesn't deserve it, Merton. 

Merton. I know it, but mother does. Poor mother ! 

Ashley (crosses to C). They're coming in for the next intermission. 
I wonder if I have this dance? (Consults program.) 

Merton. Let me go out on the balcony. I want to think this over. 
Gee ! I'd hate to give up that farm. 

Ashley. Have a cigar. (Offers one.) 

Merton. No, thanks, haven't formed the habit. (Laughing.) I never 
had money to burn. 

(Exit Merton, L. 

(Enter Margerie with partner, C, and others, who form groups.) 

Margerie (to Ashley). Aren't you dancing? 

Ashley. No, I'm rusty, out of date. I don't know the_ new dances. 
This one, for instance. (Shows program.) 

Margerie. Why, that's easy. I'll show you. Rob was my partner for 
it, but he went out for a smoke. (She does a step of the Spanish down 
C. very lightly and gracefully. He tries awkwardly to imitate.) 

Ashley. I'm afraid I'm too old to learn. Let me get you some 
frappe. (Offers her frappe.) 

(Enter Robert) 

Robert. Come, Margerie, I've been looking everywhere for you, now 
the dance is almost over. 

(Exeunt Margerie, Robert, and others. 

(Enter Merton, L.) 

Ashley (crossing to him). Well, what about it? 

Merton (pulls check out of check book). I can't see the old farm go 
to strangers. Here's a check for the amount. Don't let father know 
where it came from. 

Ashley. You're on the square, Merton. Some day I hope you'll have 
your farm. 

(Enter Rose with partner and dancers. She crosses to Ashley, who is 
standing L. Merton sits, R., lost in thought.) 

Rose. Aren't you dancing? 

Ashley. No, I can't get the new dances. This one, for instance. 
(Shows program.) 

(Enter Mrs. Merill, R. She wanders for a moment, looking for 
Merton, then sees him.) 

Mrs. Merill. Merton ! (Rushes to him with outstretched arms.) 
Merton. Mother ! (They embrace.) But what brings you here, and 

alone, too? Is anything wrong at home? How's father? Why didn't 

you write? 



32 BACK TO THE FARM 

Mrs. Merill. I did. Merton, didn't you get my letters? I wrote 
three times and you never answered, so I came. Merton, won't you come 
home? We want you! 

Merton. Did father send for me? Does he want me? 

Mrs. Merill. Yes, Merton, he does. He's sick and discouraged, and 
he wants you. I think he wanted you all the time. Won't you come? 

Merton. Why, mother, you know — ^but you haven't seen Rose, 
mother. 

Mrs. Merill (to Rose). My, but it seems good to see some one I 
know in this big city ! (Embraces her.) 

Rose. How did you manage to find your way here? 

Mrs. Merill. Oh ! I asked everybody I met where Merton lived. 
(Dumb speech.) 

(Enter Robert and Margerie with) others, R.) 

Margerie (to Robert). Oh, say. Bob, who is that back number talking 
with Rose Meade? 

Robert. Can't tell you. 

Margerie. She certainlj^ looks as though she had come out of the 
Ark. Who ever brought her here? (Laughs.) 

Merton (overhearing). Miss Langdon, that is my mother and the 
best mother in the world, too, even if she is old-fashioned. 

Margerie. Forgive me, I didn't know — I didn't know it was your — 

Mrs. Merill (crossing to C.) Merton, I'm out of place here, I nQver 
thought about that. I'll go right away. 

Merton. No, mother, don't say that. You're all the world to me. 

Mrs. Merill. You'll come home with me, son, won't you? I need 
you. 

Merton. Yes, mother, I've had enough of catacombed 'tenement 
houses, congested business centers, and overdone fashions and amuse- 
ments. I am going back to live in God's country, back to the farm. 

(Curtain) 



ACT III 




Merton: "The finest girl in the world has promised to make this the best farm 
home in the western hemisphere." 

Scene, Merlon Mcrill's office. Desk piled with papers. R., easy chair. 
L., small table with Bahcock tester at back of stage. Walls hung with 
weather maps, calendar, and pictures of farm animals. 

Merton (speaking into desk telephone). Hello, Mr. Moore. This is 
Merill talking. What price can you give me on thirty tons of raw phos- 
phate rock? . . . The National Fertilizing Company quote it at three 
dollars a ton cheaper. . . . No, there is no need of commercial fer- 
tilizer. I find by chemical analysis of the soil that there is a deficiency of 
phosphorus and nitrogen. I can get the nitrogen back through my clover 
crops. There is plenty of potash. . . . No, I only need the phos- 
phate. . . . Very well, I'll get it of the National. . . . Well, 
why didn't you say so in the first place? Thirty tons. 

(Enter Mrs. Merill, L. doorway.) 

Merton. Is Bob up yet? 

Mrs. Merill. No, I'm going to call him if he doesn't get up pretty 
soon. 

Merton. No, mother, you must not. 

Mrs. Merill. There is no sense in lying abed this way. I want to 
get the bed made. Here it is eight o'clock. (Sits in arm chair, R., and 
knits.) 

Merton. He is from the city, mother. 

Mrs. Merill. Did you do that when you were in the city? 

Merton (smiles). Sometimes later than this. 

33 



34 BACK TO THE FARM 

Mrs. Merill (amazed). Merton ! How could you?. (Telephone 
rings.) 

Merton (during this conversation Mrs. Merill shoivs curiosity and 
rising interest). Hello! . . . Yes, (Listens.) Certainly, we'd be 
glad to see you. When did you come? . . . Who? . . . Why, 
yes, by all means. Come to dinner. . . . No, indeed, we'd be only 
too delighted. ... At twelve-thirty. (Turning to Mrs. Merill.) Mr. 
Ashley's in town, wants to run out to see us. Says he will bring Rose 
Meade out for the ride in his new auto. He's run down from St. Paul 
in it. 

Mrs. Merill. Mr. Ashley ! Sakes alive, I haven't seen him since he 
moved his office to the city. Good land! What shall I have for dinner? 

Merton. Why, baking-powder biscuits and honey. 

Mrs. Merill. Bringing Rose out here ! Do you think there's any- 
thing in it, Merton? 

Merton. How should I know, mother? Why not? He's rich and 
good-looking, lives in town. What more could she want? 

Mrs. Merill (rises and comes to Merton at desk). Oh, Merton, I 
used to think you and Rose would make a match some day. Why don't 
you, Merton? She's a lovely girl, and I'd like to see you settled with a 
good wife before I die. 

Merton (bitterly). That's a vain dream, mother. Rose told me once 
that she'd never be a farmer's wife and she's the only girl in the world 
for me. There never has been any one else. 

Mrs. Merill (smooths his hair as she speaks. He takes her hand and 
puts it gently down). But, Merton, that was long ago. Why don't you 
ask her again? She's changed a bit these last few years, and do you know, 
sometimes I think she does care for you. There's something about the 
way she treats me that makes me believe it. 

Merton. Foolish little mother. Rose never would give up her splen- 
did work in the district to settle down to being a humdrum farmer's 
wife. 

Mrs. Merill. Well, you ask her, anyhow. (Sits by Merton, L., and 
continues her knitting.) 

(Enter Robert, R. door.) 

Robert. Good morning. 

Merton. Good morning. Bob. 

Robert. At work so early? 

Merton. "He who lies long in bed, his estate must feel it." That's 
from your friend Shakespeare. 

Mrs. Merill. Afternoon's more like it. 

Robert. I hope I haven't inconvenienced you, Mrs. Merill. 

Mrs. Merill (sweetly). Oh, not at all, lie abed as long as you like. 

Robert. Thank you. Lying abed in the morning is one of the greatest 
enjoyments I have. When I hear the alarm clock going off, and know 



BACK TO THE FARM 35 

that Gus has got to get up and milk the cows, I shake hands with myself 
in a congratulatory way, and roll over and go back again to dreamland. 

Mrs. Merill. Does that alarm clock bother you? I will have Gus — ■ 

Robert. No, I wouldn't have you stop it for the world. It is so satis- 
fying to have it go off. I don't know when I have enjoyed a vacation as 
much as I have this one. 

Mrs. Merill. I am glad you are enjoying yourself. 

Robert. Do you know, you folks are converting me into a genuine 
farmer. Look at that! (Slaps his leg.) Overalls. I'm going out and 
listen to the hay cocks crow. I believe I'll start in farming. 

Mrs. Merill. The farm is the only place to live. 

Robert. I'm begining to believe it. I have often wondered what 
there was in farming, but now I understand it. I find myself hanging on 
the gate after you have thrown the corn in for the hogs, to watch them 
eat and grunt; and a satisfactory feeling comes over me when I go out 
in the meadow and get a whiff of that flower-scented breeze. I can set my 
teeth into Mrs. Merill's delicious pies without any thought of indigestion. 
If I can die eating your pies, Mrs. Merill, I'll die happy. 

Mrs. Merill. You flatterer, you want some breakfast, don't j^ou? 
(Crosses to door, R., and calls.) Hulda ! 

(Enter Hulda.) 

Hulda. Ya. (She stands in doorway with her arms hanging and her 
mouth half open.) 

Mrs. Merill. Get Mr. Powell his breakfast. 

Hulda. Ya, vat val ay gat? 

Robert. Anything at all. 

Hulda. Ya. 

Mrs. Merill. Hulda, your mouth is open again. 

Hulda. Ya, ay opened it. 

Mrs. Merill. Well, shut it. 

(Exeunt Hulda and Mrs. Merill, R. 

Merton. There are a good many enjoyments on the farm. I find 
myself going out into the field, running my hand down into the soil and 
wondering if that particular seed is going to come v^p. It's the joy of 
making things grow. I have health and I am independent. I feel that I 
have part ownership in this world of ours. 

Robert (sits on desk). You have the idea! I've had a little taste of 
what drudgery at the desk means, ever since I put out that shingle, 
"Robert Powell, Lawyer." I'd have given up long ago if it hadn't been for 
the old man. He keeps saying, "Make good, make good." Here; you are 
making good and enjoying life, too, a real success. There is only one 
thing lacking in your equipment here. 

Merton. And that? 

Robert. A wife. (Stands.) 

Merton (throws up hands as if to ward him off). No! No! 



36 BACK TO THE FARM 

Robert. That's it, exactly. You could be the happiest man alive if 
you had a cheerful little wife, someone who could appreciate the farm. 

Merton. Come now, you have no right to talk to me this way. 

Robert. Oh, but I have. It's different in my case. 

Merton. A Margerie Langdon, for instance. 

Robert. Oh ! You don't want to wish me any bad luck, do you ? 
She's out of my class entirely. Her goal is society. I can't afford to keep 
an auto and do things on that scale. 

Mrs. Merill (from door). Breakfast is ready, Mr. Powell. 

Robert. I'll be there with bells on. I'm actually ashamed of the way 
I eat, but such cooking! 

(Exit Robert, R. 

(Telephone rings.) 

(Enter Gus, L. Works with Bahcock tester on table.) 

Merton. Hello ! Who is this ? . . . Mr. Cameron, well . 
stock food? ... So you are the man that took the liberty of send- 
ing out your stock food to my place. You'll find it in my machine shed. 
You can thank my man, Gus, for setting it in out of the rain. . 
No, I have too much respect for my cows ... I don't care if it is 
ten feeds for one cent, when I want stock food I'll order it. . . . You 
can do just as you like about that, but be sure and take it far enough 
away from the house so that the chickens won't get any of it. Good-bye. 
(Hangs up receiver.) 

Gus. Har ban das record sheets for das cows. (Crosses and places 
them on desk.) 

Merton. Do they balance? (Looks at them.) 

Gus. Ya. 

Merton. How about this cow. Buttercup? 

Gus. Ah, ha ain't no good at all. 

Merton. Have you followed the ration closely? 

Gus. Ya, at don't do no good, doo. Ay get lots of milk but at ain't 
no good on dis test. 

Merton. I think the wisest thing we can do is to weed her out of the 
herd, don't you. 

Gus. Ya, ay tank so. Ay tank she is losing proposition. 

Merton (rising). Transfer your records to this sheet in ink. (Gus 
sits at desk.) 

(E.vit Merton, R. 

(Enter Mrs. Merill and Hulda, who is carrying broom and dusting cloth in 
one hand and an apple, half eaten, in the other, R.) 

Mrs. Merill (to Htilda). There, you may sweep out this room. Be 
careful not to throw away any papers or anything, and don't raise any 
more dust than you can help, and don't break anything, and close your 



BACK TO THE FARM 



37 



mouth. I've got Gus so that he knows a little something now, and I'll have 
to start over again on you. 

(E.rit Mrs. Merill, R. 

(Hulda sweeps vigorously.) 




Gus and Hulda 



Gus. Har, vat you doing? 
Hulda. Ay sweeping des floor. 

Gus (rising and coming over to her). Don't you know no better dan 
to raise all dis dust? You stir up all the yerms and bacilli and tings. 



38 BACK TO THE FARM 

You gat hydrophobia if you don't look out. Dat ban dangerous. Don't 
you keep your mouth open all de time. Dat ban dangerous, too. (Goes 
back, sits down at desk, and writes.) 

HuLDA (edges up to him.) Ay like you ven you talk like dat. You 
are such smart man. Ay going to marry you, ain't I? 

Gus. Ya, when you learn to be up-to-date farmer's wife but not until 
den. 

HuLDA (edges nearer and nudges him with her elbow). Ay like you 
pretty good. Ay let you kiss me, if you want to. 

Gus (just about to kiss, stops short and holds up hand as if to 
ward her off). No, dat not be sanitary. 

HuLDA. Oh, Gus ! 

Gus. No, ay tell you dat not be sanitary. (Pause.) Ay ban reading 
dat on das paper. — Ah, ay got good idea — strain 'em out yist like das milk. 
(Crosses to desk, takes piece of cheesecloth from the desk and places over 
her mouth and kisses her. Crosses to L. with thumbs thrust in his vest, 
and chest thrown out, returns, and kisses her again.) 

(Enter Merton, R.) 

Merton (laughing). Why the cheesecloth, Gus? 

Gus (in great confusion). Ay don't vant to get no yerms. 

Merton. Don't you think you are carrying the germ idea a little too 
far, Gus? It is all right to be careful, but when you carry it so far that 
you fail to be sentimental any longer, it's time to stop. 

Gus. At ban all right, ve ban going to get married. 

Merton. Is that so. (Crosses to Hulda and takes her hand.) I wish 
you joy, Hulda; congratulations, Gus. When does it come off? 

Gus. Pretty quick now. 

Merton. This is news. (Disappointed.) I shall hate to lose you, 
Gus. You have done excellent work for me. 

Gus. You ain't going to lose me ! 

Merton. But I suppose you will want to start in farming for your- 
self. 

Gus. If ay got to quit, ay not get married. 

Merton (smiles). Well, I'll see if I can arrange it so that you can 
both stay. 

Hulda. Tank you. (Merton crosses to desk and sits. Exit Gus, R. 
Hulda continues sweeping and eating her apple, in corner dozvn stage, R.) 

(Enter Reuben Allen, R.) 

Allen. Good morning. 

Merton. Good morning, Mr. Allen. 

Allen. Durn fine day, ain't it? (Merton nods.) Shouldn't wonder 
but what it would rain, though. 

Merton. Yes, the barometer stands low and there is a low due here 
most any time. 

Allen. Oh, I don't take no stock in them ideas. I can tell by the 



BACK TO THE FARM 39 

different signs. I can hit the weather right square on the head every gosh 
durn time. That's more than them fellows at Washington can do. 

Merton. Mr. Allen, can't you do a thing unless there is some sign 
to guide you? You plant potatoes by the moon, kill your animals by the 
moon. Every turn you make must prove some) sign. Do you want to 
know what I think of your signs? 

Allen. Why, yes. 

Merton. I think they are all rot, and wouldn't advise you to invest 
any money on them. Father is out in the kitchen. 

Allen. Gosh, but you think you're smart, don't you? 

(Enter Mrs. Merill, R.) 

Mrs. Merill. Good morning, Mr. Allen. 

Allen. Morning. Is the old man out there? 

Mrs. Merill. Yes. 

Allen. How's his rheumatiz? 

Mrs. Merill. It ain't much better. (Exit Allen, R.) Merton, I want 
you to kill those roosters I have shut up in the chicken coop. 

Merton (crosses to table, gets his hat). You have finally decided to 
kill a few? 

Mrs. Merill. Yes, they do a lot of crowing, but it is the hens that 
meet the demand for eggs. I made thirty dollars off them this month. 

Merton. Good. 

(Exit Merton, R. 

Mrs. Merill (turning to Hulda, who is eating her apple). Now you 
get to work. What? Eating apples again — I told you not to touch — ^you 
give me that apple. (Hulda takes a big bite and hand^ her the apple.) 
Now get to work! 



m 



(Mrs. Merill goes out, R., Hulda crosses L., taking another apple fro 
her pocket. She sits at desk and speaks into telephone.) 

Hulda. Ay vont to talk to Mr. Swanson's resident place. . . . 
Swansons! Swansons ! Can't you fursto da Anglish goud? . . . 
Ya, dot's him. . . . Hello! Das Lena Swanson? Das ban Hulda 
speaking. Ay got ma hat from Sears and Robecks. Ay like it goud. Yust 
like de picture in da bouk. . . . Ya, on dallar nette otta. Dere vos 
one for two dollars, ay didn't like ham. . . . No. . . . Hello, 
hello, hello, vot you butt in for? Ay not talking to you. . . .Don't 
you gat fresh by me. (Hangs up receiver.) My goudness, hi ban fresh ! 

(Re-enter Mrs. Merill.) 

Mrs. Merill. Hulda, you get to work. (Hulda dusts L. during this 
scene.) (Calling out.) Here, you two will have to get out of the kitchen. 
I can't have you in the way all the time. Gus, help pa. 

Gus. Ya. 



40 BACK TO THE FARM 

(Enter Merill with Gus and Allen on either side. Mrs. Mcrill gets chair 
and places it down stage.) 

Merill. Careful ! Careful ! Go easy now. There ! (Sits.) Care- 
ful! Here! Here! Drop it! Drop it, I tell you! (Gus drops foot. It 
hits the floor with a bang.) Oh, get out of my sight, you blundering fool. 
(Hurls cane after him. Gus dodges out of room.) 

Mrs. Merill. Pa, control yourself. 

(Exit Mrs. Merill, R. 

Allen. Did you every try a potato for your rheumatiz ? 

Merill. No. 

Allen. B}^ golly, it works like a charm. I tried it on Jones' boy last 
spring when he had 'flamitory ; ain't had no rheumatiz since. 

Merill. I don't know what Merton would think. He don't take 
much stock in things like that. Don't do any harm to try, though. How 
do you do it? 

Allen. Yer take a common, ordinary potato and ya put it in yer 
pocket and carry it around with you wherever yer happen to be, and the 
rheumatiz leaves yer, and goes into the potato. Then when yer ain't got 
no more rheumatiz left, you throw the potato away and yer cured. 

Merill. It sounds pretty good. 

Allen. It's a sure thing. Wait! I'll get one. (Goes to R.) Mrs. 
Merill ! 

(Enter Mrs. Merill, R.) 

Mrs. Merill (at doorway). Well, what now? 
Allen. Could I have a potato? A small one is just as good. 
Mrs. Merill. Why, yes. What do you want of a potato? 
Allen. I'm going to cure Merill of this rheumatiz. 
Mrs. Merill. What nonsense are you up to now? 

(Exit Mrs. Merill. 

Allen. 'Tain't nonsense neither; it works every time. (Mrs. Merill 
re-enters with the potato and gives it to Merill.) 
Mrs. Merill. Here's your potato. 

(Exit Mrs. Merill. 

Allen. Now just put that in yer pocket. (Merill does so.) No, not 
that one, the one next the rheumatiz. 

Merill. I don't feet no change. 

Allen. Oh, ya don't feel it right away. You have to wait a little 
while before it begins ter work. 

Merill. How are you coming with your plowing? 

(Hulda picks up broom and goes out, R.) 

Allen. Well, I ain't getting along very spry. I ain't got no feed for 
the horses and they can't stand very much. I might have knowed we was 
going to have a dry year when I saw that 'ere dry moon. I only got a 



BACK TO THE FARM 41 

little crop, and that wasn't a very good stand, neither. (Takes a bite off 
his plug of tobacco.) You know Philips, he tested his corn this year and 
he got a right smart stand. (Shifts his cud.) You know I kinder believe 
there is something to that 'ere notion. There's something to surface culti- 
vation, too. 

Merill. Of course there is. Now, my boy Merton, he says there is, 
and I guess he knows if anybody does. 

Allen. Keeps the weeds down, I suppose. (Crosses to ivindoiv and 
e.rpectoratcs.) 

Merill. No, he says that's only a small part of it. He says by culti- 
vating you keep a dust blanket on the soil and that keeps the hatalery, no, 
capillary water from coming up, whatever that is. Farming ain't like it 
used to be. Me and Merton got a crop, and a good one, too. That's more 
than lots of them did around in this 'ere part of the country. The trouble 
with farmers is that they've been farming from here down (places hand 
on level with his chin), and they ain't been paying much attention to what 
was from here up. (Places hand on level with his chin.) Now, as I sees 
it, the thing they've got to do is to farm from there up. You know times 
is changing; I used to walk hundreds of miles behind a drag, in the dust, 
but now I won't look at a piece of farm machinery unless it's got a seat 
on it. 

Allen. Wall, things has took a turn since Merton came back. Two 
years have made a lot of difference in the looks of this place. How about 
that mortgage you was worrying about so bad? Got that all paid off, I 
calculate. 

Merill. Paid off ! No, sir. When I can borrow money at 5 per cent 
and turn it into work and improvements and clear 10 per cent, Pm not 
paying it back in a hurry. I was just saying to Merton yesterday, I can't 
see why folks is so skittish about mortgages. 

(Enter Giis and sits at desk.) 

Allen (crossing to windozu.) Well, there's no getting out of it, if 
we have another such dry year I go plum busted. 

Gus. By golly, at ban dry year all right. De other day ay caught a 
frog out in de field, and I took him home and put him in dis har horse 
trough, and he come prutty nare drounding. He didn't even know how to 
swim. 

(Enter Robert, C.) 

Robert (in great excitement). Say, Gus, there is something the matter 
with one of your cows. 

Gus. Vot? 

Robert. All the teeth have fallen out of the upper jaw. 

Gus (laughs). Das the vay dey alvays is. (Laughs.) 

Robert. Well, laugh if you think it does you any good. I thought I 
had made a great discovery. I learn something new every day. And we 



42 



BACK TO THE FARM 



call you farmers green ! Say, Gus, there is one thing more than I want 
to ask. 




Rose: "But I can't wait." 



Gus. Ya ? 

Robert. Now, don't laugh, if you do I'll — well — you laugh and see 



BACK rO THE FARM 43 

what happens to you. I've seen you milking the cows several times, and 
what I want to know is, how do you know when to stop milking? 

Gus. Har. (Places hand over mouth.) Ay can't help it, ay got to 
laugh. Ay yust turn off de faucet. (Laughs.) 

Robert. Well, laugh, I hope you choke. 

(Exit Gus, R. 

(Enter Morton, L.) 

Allen. Say, Merton, we was just having a little discussion here about 
how it was you got a good crop this year. How'd you do it? 

Merton. Well, this was a dry year, but I had plowed deep and was 
ready for it. Then I cultivated well to keep in what moisture I did have. 
The point is, Mr. Allen, that in farming, as in any other business, you've 
got to put your brains into your work. The man who works by muscle 
alone is bound to fall behind the man who works with both brain and 
muscle. We are told, Mr. Allen, that the man with the brawn must give 
way to the man with the brain, the man with the hoe must inake room for 
the man with the dynamo. (Crosses to desk.) 

Merill. That's it. (Stands.) That's it. I tell you, Allen, we've been 
wrong all these years about education and such. 

(Enter Mrs. Merill. Raises hands in horror.) 

Mrs. Merill Pa! Your rheumatism ! (Merill looks at his foot and 
sits.) 

Allen. By gosh, that potato is working. 

Mrs. Merill (crosses to the zvindow). There is an auto coming down 
the road, it must be them. Yes, it is turning in, and there's two of them. 
Good land, and I haven't even made your bed. (Auto horn.) 

Robert (at the zvindow). Who is the young lady? 

Merton (rises). Young lady? 

Robert. Yes. 

Merton. How am I to know? 

Robert. Ah, come off now, you do. Gee, she's a bear. I'm going to 
get out of here. 

Merton. No, you don't. (Catches him by sleeve.) 

Robert. But let me get a collar on. 

Merton. No, I want her to see you just the way you are. 

Robert. And you pretended you didn't know who it v/as. Is my hair 
combed ? 

(Exit Merton, C. Robert crosses to L.) 

Mrs. Merill. What is your rush? 

Robert. I'm going to catch a train. (Tries to pass her.) 

Mrs. Merill. No, you stay here. I want you to see Rose Meade. 

Robert. Rose Meade! Jumping Jerusalem! 

Mrs. Merill. I want vou to stay and meet her. 



44 BACK TO THE FARM 

Robert. Meet her, why Mrs. Merill, I know her. 

(Enter Rose, foUozved by Mertoii and Asliley.) 

Mrs. Merill. Rose, you dear, it is awful good of you to come out. 
You know Mr. Powell, don't you? 

Robert (conies forward). Yes, I've had that pleasure. 

Rose (to Mrs. Merill). We met up at the University. (To Robert.) 
But what are you doing here on the farm? And your clothes! 

Robert. Yes, nifty, aren't they? I am spending my vacation here. 

Rose. Do you like it? 

Robert. Do I ? It's great ! 

Rose. I suppose you are a great lawyer by now? 

Robert. You haven't heard anything about me as yet, have you? 

Rose (turns and shakes hands with Merill). How is your rheuma- 
tism? 

Merill. 'Tain't much better. 

Allen. It's going to be, though. I got a sure cure for him. 

Rose. I saw you at the school entertainment last Friday. 

Allen. Yes, I was over there. 

Rose. What did you think of it? 

Allen. Finest school in the state. 

Rose. You didn't used to think so. 

Allen. No, but these here consolidated schools, they're just the 
checker. You came down with Ashley in his new automobile wagon, I 
'spose. 

Rose. Yes, we had a delightful ride. 

Allen. I heard you was goin' to get one, Merill. How about it? 

Merill. Yes, we calculate to get one as soon as we can find one that 
suits us. 

(Enter Giis.) 

Ashley. Come out and take a look at mine. I think it's the best on 
the market. Let me help you, Mr. Merill. How are the pigs, Gus. (Ash- 
ley and Allen help Merill.) 

Gus. Pretty good. How are you? 

(Exeunt Merill, Allen, Ashley, and Robert. C. 

Mrs. Merill. Land sakes ! I forgot all about them little chickens 
that I have in the brooder. I'll go and get the feed. Don't you want to 
see them? 

Rose. Yes, I should love to. (Rose goes tozi'ard C.) 

(Exit Mrs. Merill. 

Merton. Oh, don't go, I want to speak to you. 
Rose. I think your mother wants to show me her chickens. 
Merton. Oh, the chickens can wait. See here, Rose, I suppose now 
Ashley's back, he'll be trying to persuade you to go back to town to live. 



BACK TO THE FARM. 45 

where there are the advantages of art, music, gaj'ety, and all that sort of 
thmg. 

Rose. Well, suppose he does? 

Mertox. Oh, then I suppose you'd do like all the: rest of them, drop 
your work and all your grand ideas and settle down to the duties of a 
fashionable society woman. 

Rose. See here, Merton Merill, I think it's mean of you to lay that 
up against me all these years, what I said to you that morning. Just 
because a girl is young and ignorant and says foolish things is no sign 
she can not change her mind. 

Merton. Oh, Rose, was it because you did not know? Have you 
changed your mind? Is there any hope for me? (Rose turns away em- 
barrassed.) Oh, Rose, don't play with me. I know how absorbed you 
are in your work and I mustn't ask you to givCj it up, but if there was 
even a faint chance that some day you would, it would mean everything 
to me. I could wait, oh, ever so long, willingly, gladly. 

Rose (turning). But I can't wait. I ask nothing better than to work 
out my ideas too, on this dear old farm. 

Mertox. Do you mean it? (He takes her in his arms.) 

(Enter all others.) 

Mertox. Mother, father, everybody, hear the good news. The finest 
girl in the world is going to make this the best farm home in the western 
hemisphere. (All congratulate them.) 

HuLDA (at zvindozv). We ban goin' to get married, too. (Gives Gus a 
bite of apple.) 

(Curtain) 



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